


Charades

by Kingkiwi



Series: Soulless-retail-employee Eyes [2]
Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Retail, Comedy, Confusing charades, Fluff, Harboring a retail fugitive, M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-06
Updated: 2015-07-06
Packaged: 2018-04-07 22:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,957
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4279692
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kingkiwi/pseuds/Kingkiwi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Namjoon's bad day turns weird when a fugitive customer takes shelter behind the customer service counter and shushes him into keeping it a secret. </p><p>"Seokjin, who had been simultaneously snooping through the cupboards and pulling on the shoelace, managed to knock a box of sneakers off the top shelf. He looked up at Namjoon, expression twisted like a kicked puppy, guilty hands squeezed beneath his legs."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charades

Namjoon still hadn’t heard the whole story as to how Hoseok and Taehyung started dating. One thing’s for sure: he’d been completely surprised when Hoseok scouted him out during break one day, another young man in tow and, grinning like a loon, introduced Taehyung as his boyfriend. Said boyfriend bared his teeth in some kind of smile before the pair slunk away, probably to do unmentionable things in the dressing rooms. As a manager, Namjoon was quite experienced in cleaning up the evidence of more than a few dressing room romps.

When Namjoon asked Hoseok how Taehyung had fallen into his lap, the man blushed and said, “Well, you know...” without making eye contact before literally running away. No, he didn’t know, which was why he was asking. Based on Hoseok’s reaction though, it was incredibly embarrassing, which made him want to know even more. 

As it was now, Namjoon was just grateful knowing that Hoseok, with his beaming smiles and ridiculous dances, found someone who made him feel happy and loved.

What he wasn’t such a big fan of, however, was the fact that Taehyung hung around the store all the time, bothering his employee. At first Taehyung pretended to shop, apparently throwing anything he walked past into the cart, if the sets of women’s lingerie were any indication. He gave up on that after a while, preferring to ambush Hoseok with a hug and chat with him in between customers. All this only served to create more work for Namjoon, who had to keep Hoseok on task, particularly when the big bosses were in the store.

On this particular day, Namjoon was behind the customer service counter in the back, sorting through returned products and only in a bit of a bad mood. The children’s department apparently lived to ruin his life. If he had to do damage control over their disasters one more time… well, suffice to say that no one would be getting time off in the near future. 

Crouching down, he pulled out a bin from the bottom shelf to find some hangers that would fit baby clothes. His pissy attitude only meant that he resented the children and their smallness and how difficult this made it find the appropriate hangers. Satan’s minions, they were. Too big, too big, pant hanger, bra hanger… Frowning, Namjoon raked the untidy pile of hangers over to get to the bottom. “Really?” he muttered to himself, frustrated. He shoved his arm deeper into the pile. 

Of course, that’s when the stack of baby clothes and adjacent receipts slipped off the counter and onto his head in a shower of pastel cotton and fluttering paper. Sputtering, Namjoon fell backward onto his ass, managing to knock the bin of hangers over and bang his knee on the shelving on the short way down. He just laid there for a second or two, stunned and hoping to god that no one had seen that spectacular show of athleticism. 

“Are you fucking kidding me?” He was aware that he was growling, but it felt appropriate, as did ripping the clothes from his head and tossing them on the floor.

Muffled laughter made him jump. The hangers rattled. 

It didn’t take but a second to realize that there was a customer crouched behind the customer service counter, not a foot away, laughing with a hand over his mouth.

“What are you doing back here?” Namjoon demanded, mood plummeting from seriously annoyed to “ready to set something on fire.” He pushed himself to his feet, ignoring the nasty crunch of snapping hangers beneath his boots. 

The man, Seokjin, as his name tag proclaimed, flailed a little and made some unsubtle shushing noises. He was wearing the uniform of the ice cream shop next door, which happened to be a disturbing shade of baby blue.

Namjoon stared at him for a moment before surveying the sales floor. The only person he could see was a guy, probably in his mid-20s, stalking in their direction with a pair of jeans hanging from one hand. 

He looked back down at Seokjin, who had shrunk down even further and scrunched his eyes shut. He was practically inside the cupboard at this point. Peeking up at Namjoon, he embarked upon some kind of stifled game of charades, pointing at himself before making an “x” with his fingers. Next, he gestured toward where he assumed the approaching man was and sketched a shape in the air that was either a head of broccoli or a penis. His eyebrows did some kind of dance and then–

“Excuse me.”

Namjoon’s head snapped up to look at the guy with the jeans. He was glaring balefully. If looks could kill and all that.

“Yes, what can I do for you?” Namjoon asked, fighting to keep both his confusion and pissy mood from showing. He was nothing if not a retail professional. 

“I’m returning these jeans. They don’t fit.” His tone of voice very clearly implied that this was entirely Namjoon’s fault. This was followed up by the crumpled receipt being spitefully tossed onto the counter. It immediately skittered off and fell to the floor on Namjoon’s side. 

Bending down to retrieve it, the manager looked at Seokjin, who was making a “sorry” and “I know, right?” face while handing him receipt. 

This was going from annoying to confusing to slightly amusing very quickly. Well, except for the douchebag standing in front of him looking like someone’d pissed in his morning Wheaties. 

While Namjoon processed the return, the douche answered a phone call, immediately pacing away and talking in a loud voice without giving the counter a second glance. He flicked a look down to Seokjin, who rolled his eyes and leaned his head against a shelf, fiddling with a loose shoelace by his arm. 

“Uh, excuse me, sir,” Namjoon called. Not everyone had time to wait around people to get off their damn phones. It was straight up rude. Namjoon could feel his sour mood creeping back up.

A loud thud made him tear his eyes away from the rude customer and check on his harbored fugitive. Seokjin, who had been simultaneously snooping through the cupboards and pulling on the shoelace, managed to knock a box of sneakers off the top shelf. He looked up at Namjoon, expression twisted like a kicked puppy, guilty hands squeezed beneath his legs.

“What was that?” the man snapped. His phone was nowhere to be seen. Slick bastard. 

“Nothing,” Namjoon replied, practiced soulless-retail-employee eyes boring into the man’s face. “Here are your receipts. $36.99 has been returned to your account.” His lip curled. “Have a nice day” never sounded more like “Fuck off.”

The man looked disgruntled, but had no legitimate reason to stick around and trudged away.

Out of the corner of his eyes, Namjoon saw Seokjin reach up to haul himself to his feet. 

“No!” he hissed, throwing out a staying hand.

Seokjin froze immediately, eyes wide, and every so slowly lowered his hand back to his side. 

Namjoon waved cheerily at the rude customer, who was rather obviously pretending to browse a rack of ties while keeping an eye on the customer service desk.

Another ten minutes of creepy loitering passed. Seokjin switched from crouching to sitting as quietly as possible when his legs began to fall asleep and intently watched Namjoon as he unenthusiastically folded clothes, processed paper work, and checked his phone a few times.

About five minutes in, the door behind them rattled loudly. Someone who clearly had a hard time with doors was trying to get through. Just as Namjoon was moving to open it, the door flew open to reveal another employee pushing a rack of shirts. Seokjin went unseen for a few hopeful seconds as Hoseok closed the door and greeted Namjoon. It didn’t last. Hoseok saw him almost immediately when he turned around. 

“Uh…”

“I don’t need your help with the returns,” Namjoon interrupted, eyeing the rude customer, who was hovering next to the boxer briefs.

“Uh huh,” Hoseok said slowly, looking from Seokjin to Namjoon to the guy staring at them like a man possessed and back. “Yeah, I’ll just…not be here.” He gamely tossed Seokjin a conspiratorial wink and shoved his rack around the bulky counter.

Seokjin sighed in relief and propped his head on his arm in order to better stare at Namjoon.

More time passed and just when Seokjin was finally feeling embarrassed about his duck and run, Namjoon crooked a finger and looked down at him.

“Is it safe?” Seokjin whispered.

“Yeah, that weird guy finally left,” the manager assured him, fiddling with a pen. “What was that all about anyway?”

Seokjin unfolded like an intricate piece of origami, groaning in relief. “I think my ass is asleep,” he complained, stumbling to his feet.

Namjoon caught his arm to steady him. “You steal something form the mob or what? That guy was giving me the creeps.”

“Nah,” Seokjin chuckled, stretching his legs. “He’s an ex-boyfriend and a total dick.”

Ah, so his charades guess was right.

“I think he caught sight of me in home goods when I was looking at juicers. I ran through sleepwear, women’s, and shoes, but he was about to corner me when I saw your counter.” Seokjin grinned. “Thanks for the save.”

Namjoon stuck the pen behind his ear and didn’t even consider chasing Seokjin out of the employee-only side of the counter. Good thing the big bosses weren’t in town and Hoseok didn’t care enough to get him in trouble. If anything he’d think it was a fun time and help any way he could. “What’s his deal? He just hung around and glared at me for ten minutes.”

Seokjin grimaced. “He seemed normal at first…”

“Don’t they all,” Namjoon muttered.

“Yeah. Turns out he’s super possessive and can’t let anything go. He probably guessed I came over here, but couldn’t tell for sure and was hoping you’d rat me out.”

Namjoon’s eyes narrowed. “Has he been bothering you?” Anger surged in his chest at the thought. He’d punched people in the face for less.

“No! Not really,” Seokjin denied, looking surprised and waving his arms a bit. “Whenever I see him around he just asks me a bunch of personal questions, but it’s nothing that I can’t handle.”

Namjoon raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Says the guy who was hiding in a cupboard a minute ago.”

Seokjin rubbed the back of his neck, laughing awkwardly. “It’s just easier to avoid him.”

He didn’t look like he was lying, but it was almost impossible to tell. Namjoon thought for a moment, studying the other man. Seokjin fidgeted under the scrutiny. “Gimme your phone.” He held out an expectant hand.

Seokjin slowly pulled the device from his back pocket, unlocked it, and handed it over.

Namjoon fiddled with it for a minute before giving it back. It was open to a new contact. “There you go. My name’s Namjoon. If that guy gives you trouble, just call or text me. If I’m not at work, I’ll come kick his ass.” He offered a crooked smile. 

Beaming, Seokjin snapped a photo of Namjoon ninja-fast and loaded it into the contact. “What do I do if you’re at work?”

Namjoon frowned in thought. “Call the police.”

Seokjin laughed. “And what if he’s not bothering me, but I want to call you anyway?” he asked, tapping the corner of his phone against his chin.

Namjoon visibly brightened before falling into a comfortable smirk. “Then we’ll have to see what else I can help you with.”

As Seokjin smiled, finally shy, Namjoon thought, _There’s no way Hoseok and Taehyung’s get together story is weirder than this. No way._

**Author's Note:**

> Crossposted on AFF under Kingkiwi


End file.
